JIM RUN!
by Corona 1
Summary: It's no secret that Scroop hates Jim. But what happens when he comes on heat and turns his sights on the boy in a very... different way. No good can come of this. Posted as a response to a request. Rated T for safety. ScroopXJim, very one sided.
1. Chapter 1

Hello all! This comes as a request from kaitamis for a Treasure Planet story. Hope you all enjoy it!

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Disney. The plot belongs to kaitamis.

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><p>The day couldn't get any worse, Jim surmised, pushing the scrub angrily against a particularly stubborn mark on the deck, stopping only to mop his brow. This was the most recent in the long list of chores he had been tasked with from the moment he'd woken up. He'd already scrubbed the pots and pans from breakfast, shifted waste from said breakfast and cleaned down the mess surfaces. Now tasked with scrubbing the mess deck, his already sour mood was only growing darker. He growled at the stain as it refused to budge, scrubbing all the harder. With an explosive sigh, he threw the scrub back into the bucket with a splash and allowed himself a moment to breathe. This was not how he envisioned life on board a sail ship. None of the stories had mentioned this. He had expected adventure, possibly similar to the books. He had imagined having the chance to watch the passing of stars and planetary systems and nebulae, perhaps caught sight of other ships, their sails unfurled and rippling in the solar winds, and then being huddled around a table with the Captain and Doppler, studying the map and charting a course. But no, he just had to be cast as a cabin boy. This was one of the reasons he'd wanted to sail in the first place! To get away from having to wash pots and scrub tables! He sighed as reality kicked in once again. Silver wouldn't be happy if he hadn't finished his chores. He reached into the bucket to retrieve his brush, only to find it missing.<p>

"What the..." He searched around him. Where had it gone? Scratching his head, he cast his gaze to underneath one of the tables. How had it gotten under there? He reached for it, starting when it jumped away from his hand. Frowning, he went for it again, and once more it jumped away from his hand. He smiled a little in realisation. "Morph..." As if in answer, two great big wide eyes appeared on the handle, a playful glint shining in them. The brush melted into a floating pink blob and buzzed around his head a couple of times before pressing himself against the teenager's cheek. Jim chuckled in spite of himself, stroking the blob with his finger, finding his mood lightening a little. He pulled away, placing a hand on his hip and looking at the mischievous protomorph in front of him.

"Come on, Morph, where's the real brush?" The blob merely bobbed up and down, a gesture Jim had come to realise was his way of shrugging. The teenager wasn't totally convinced, but until the morph came clean about it, there wasn't much else he could do. Except look for it himself. After all it couldn't have gone too far. On hands and knees, Jim searched the surrounding area for the missing item, getting closer to the steps leading up to the entrance of the mess. Where was it? He suddenly froze when an all too familiar hiss sounded from above him.

"Looking for thisss, Cabin Boy?" Jim turned around quickly, coming face to face with the intimidating form of the Spider Psycho himself. Scroop. And the arachnoid had his scrub. Great. Just great. The teenager pushed himself to his feet, squaring up to the much taller alien.

"What do you want?" He felt the cold wet feeling of the pink morph as he pressed against the teen's neck, hiding from the black and red spider crab. Scroop didn't answer immediately, simply seeming content in eyeing him up, casually tossing the brush from claw to claw.

"Jussst making sure you're keeping up with your work, boy. After all, wouldn't want any...accidentsss, now would we?" Jim narrowed his eyes, unconsciously stepping back towards the steps. Something was off; something in the yellow eyes of the spider seemed to be different. Whatever it was, Jim felt a shiver race down his spine. Scroop slowly made his way towards the teenager, a strange leering grin upon his mandibles. He tossed and caught the brush in his claw once more, advancing on him.

"What'sss the matter? No come back? No witty comment?" Jim simply frowned, stepping away from the psychotic arachnoid.

"Look, just leave me alone, ok Bright Eyes? I'm not in the mood to play around today." His grin seemed to widen all the more.

"A shame. Though, it doesss make it all the more enjoyable." Something in his tone made him shiver again, feeling his skin crawl. Too busy keeping his eyes on the arachnoid, Jim didn't notice how close to the stairs he was until his heels hit the bottom step, sending him sprawling across the planks with a gasp of surprise. It was at that moment that Scroop seemed to come alive, throwing the brush over his shoulder and pouncing on boy, pinning his wrists in his claws. Jim immediately fought back, remembering all too clearly what had almost happened the first time they had met. Silver had saved him that time, something he was grateful to the cyborg for. This time, however, he was alone with the spider psycho, the rest of the crew busy with their own duties. And with Morph. Morph! Where was Morph? The little blob had squeaked and fled when arachnoid had pounced. Jim felt the alien pressing against him, leering at him, the pressure on his wrists becoming painful. There was something about this that he really didn't like. The teenager fought all the harder, pushing and shoving at the alien, finally able to move one of his legs underneath the arachnoid's abdomen. With a grunt and a heave, he kicked out, pushing Scroop off him and winding him at the same time. The arachnid stumbled backwards, all eight feet skittering about upon the still wet floor before landing in a heap of tangled legs on the deck. Jim didn't waste any time in vacating the area, scrambling up the stairs and onto the Weather Deck. Scroop watched the retreating feet of his prey, a hissed growl escaping him. He was well aware that, for the first time in more than enough months, he was in heat. And the male members of his species did like to pursue those who were...less than willing. Or maybe that was just him. He didn't really care. All he knew was that he hated the boy, hated him with a passion. And it was mutual. The boy would fight him every step of the way. He smiled to himself. Let him. He was more than eager to run the boy down. Let the chase begin...

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><p>Ok, so there's the first chapter. I know it's a bit short, but I think it serves well as a prologue, a prelude to the mayhem that is to follow. 'Til next time!<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, here's chapter 2.

, , , ,change in time

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><p>Jim ran across the deck, ignoring the indignant yells of crewmembers he nearly crashed into on his way. He didn't care what was said or what he'd been called. All he wanted right now was to put as much space as the ship allowed between himself and that psychotic arachnoid. They'd had run-ins before, and it was obvious from the very first time Scroop had pinned him to the mast by his collar that they hated each other. But this had been different. The attack had come without warning, unprovoked. There had been something in the bug's eyes that the teenager hadn't liked at all. In fact, the spider himself had seemed...different. Jim ducked into the entrance of the galley, almost tripping on the steps on his way down, and crashing into a very surprised John Silver.<p>

"Jimbo?" The larger man held the teenager as he recovered his balance, dropping his hold when the boy pushed himself away. His hidden concern for the boy deepened when he noticed the teenager shaking a little, his face pale.

"Wha's gotten in ta ya, lad?" Jim simply inhaled deeply and shook his head.

"Nothing, nothing." He waved his hand dismissively, almost trying to bat the conversation in another direction, ducking his head. Cocking an eyebrow, disbelieving the youth, the cyborg folded his arms, deciding to try something else to open the boy up.

"Have ya finished swabbin' the mess deck?" Jim's head shot up, almost pleading with the older man not to send him back. With a sigh, the teenager shook his head, unconsciously rubbing his wrists. Scroop had a rather tight grip in those claws. Silver's frown deepened to one of concern. The boy may be unruly and rebellious, but he wasn't the type to abandon a job when he was halfway done. Something had happened, something that had made the lad run for cover. With a weary sigh, the older man turned back to his own task.

"Well, since ya're 'ere, ya can help me with gettin' this grub ready. Startin' with those purps. I wan' 'em all skinnin'." Jim simply nodded, making his way over to the barrel. He sat quietly, beginning his task without so much as a remark. The cyborg watched him for a moment. Something had definitely happened.

"Wha's the matter, lad?" Jim glanced to him then back to his task.

"Nothing."

" 'S tha' so? So explain ta me why Morphy came flyin' in 'ere squeakin' an' buzzin' like a goodun jus' before ya decided ta throw yerself down the steps?" As if on cue, the pink morph himself shot towards the distracted teen, pushing himself into Jim's cheek. Jim smiled a little at the blob, petting him with a finger.

"I told you. Nothing happened. Just...forget it. It's nothing." Silver folded his arms again, before sighing and letting the topic slide. The boy wasn't going to open up to him if kept pushing. They worked in silence, with only the sound of Silver's jovial whistling and the rattle and hissing of pans to punctuate it.

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The galley became almost empty save for the cabin boy and the numerous pots and pans he had been tasked with scrubbing. The altercation with Scroop that morning had been pushed to the very back of his mind, and he found himself becoming more like himself again. He wiped down the tops until they gleamed, before turning his attention to the pile of pots. Rolling up his sleeves, he set to work, scrubbing at the stains and dunking the plates and bowls in the washbowl. It had turned into a rather good day, even if he had been kept busy. He'd spent most of his time with Silver nearby, and so felt he had nothing to fear. After all, no one dared invade the sanctuary of the galley. It was the cyborg's domain, and, Jim had noticed, none of the crew dared to invoke his wrath. He shrugged the thoughts away as he tilted a pan and scrubbed away at the interior, glancing every so often out of the latticed window. The ship had passed into a darker region of the galaxy, the far off stars casting barely any of their light upon the vessel, which seemed apt to the teenager. After all, the ship had now passed into its night-time sequence. The dim electric lighting hummed overhead. That was when he heard it, the all too familiar sound of his new archenemy. Gulping, Jim glanced towards the entrance.

There was no mistaking the yellow eyes that shone through the dim illumination, nor the many legged form that blocked his only exit. Jim stood, using the now halved pile of pots as a barricade. Was it him, or had Scroop's eyes turned a darker shade? Possibly his imagination. Not that he really cared at the moment. The arachnoid had that sickening smirk on his mandibles again, closing the gap between him and the boy. Jim looked around, trying to find anything that could be used as a weapon that wouldn't break too easily. His eyes fell on the pan he had been scrubbing only moments earlier. Grabbing the handle, he hauled it up in front of him defensively, forgetting how heavy it was. Damn Silver and his strength for making it look light!

"What do you want, Bug Eyes?" Scroop simply chuckled, advancing on the boy even as Jim began stepping behind the stove. The arachnoid seemed to realise what the teenager had in mind, moving to block both sides of the large, round fire place.

"I thought it might be obviousss, even to an impudent little twerp ssuch as yoursself." Jim growled, his arms aching painfully under the weight of the pan. He would have to put it down soon. _Think Jim; think your way out of this._

"Nope, sorry. I have no idea what's going through that psychotic little brain of yours. Wouldn't wanna either, thanks." It was probably a bad idea to even consider riling the arachnoid up, especially when he had no way of escaping this time. But maybe if he got the spider to chase him down, he would have a way to get to the galley entrance. Except he didn't seem to be taking the bait. Scroop merely chuckled again, his eyes seeming to grow darker. Oh he was having so much fun. He could see the boy trying to figure out a plan of escape, and he knew what he was trying to do. It wouldn't work, not this time. The boy would be his.

"Why elssse would I be down here? not for anymore of Sssilver'ss 'delightful' cooking." He leered at the cabin boy. Jim's eyes widened in shock and horror, dropping the pan in his surprise. Him. Scroop was down here for him! but why? Scroop didn't usually seek him out unless they happened to be nearby. Nope, there was definitely something he didn't like about this whole thing. He made to run past Scroop's right, watching the arachnoid dart the same way at the same time, quickly changing directions and charging past his left. Not fast enough. The teenager found his arm suddenly caught in Scroop's claw, his body pulled roughly back into the arachnoid's thorax. He twisted as best he could, making it difficult for the arachnoid to get a good hold on his other arm. With his free arm, Jim reached for a smaller pan on top of the pile he had yet to wash, grasping the handle. Scroop seemed unaware of this as he tried to pull him back, that sickly smirk still on his mandibles. With a sudden jerk, the teen suddenly found his back pressed against fire place, pan still in hand. The arachnoid hissed, pressing into him and leaning his face closer to the boys.

"Ssstruggle all you like, boy, it won't change a thing." With a sudden burst of strength and desperation, Jim swung the pan round, crashing it against the side of the arachnoid's head with enough force to daze him. Scroop stumbled sideways, collapsing to the floor. Once again, Jim didn't wait for him to recover, immediately racing up the steps and out into the cold darkness of the ship.

It took a few minutes, but Scroop finally managed to push past the daze. Shaking his head, he pushed himself up onto his spindly legs, growling at the entrance. Next time. He would have him next time.

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><p>That's it for this chapter! Stay tuned for the next installment!<p>

Oh, one more thing, in the last chapter I miss counted the number of Scroop's legs. I said he had eight, when he only has six. Just thought I'd clear that up.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys. Here's chapter 3. I'm so glad so many of you are enjoying it. This one is a little different, as it focuses more on Scroop than Jim, just to give the poor lad a break. At least for one chapter. (Evil laugh). It's only a short one, just something that came to mind for the fic. Enjoy!

, , , , , , change in time

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><p>The dimly lit cargo hold made for the perfect place to brood, the shadows seeming to stretch outward from his own thoughts, their dark fingers reaching to grip the light of the lamps. Damn that boy! Damn him to the deepest, darkest regions of the Etherium! This was the third time he had escaped his claws. He'd very nearly had him in the long boat hold. The boy was certainly fast when he wanted (or needed) to be, and intelligent. He would give him that. In fact, Scroop still wasn't sure how he'd managed to evade him, though it probably had something to do with the boy running the moment he heard him. Damned loose chain, rattling the moment he brushed it. He would have to be more cautious, stealthier, if he wanted to catch him. Damn him.<p>

And then there was Silver. The boy tried to stay near the cyborg, where Scroop couldn't touch him. And, said cyborg seemed to be catching on to him, never taking his eyes off the arachnid when the boy was near. Damn him as well. Scroop would have to play his hand carefully from now on, no more lust ridden attacks on the boy at any given interval.

Lust. A strange word to use in this context. It wasn't lust that he felt, not the romantic kind. A sexual kind, certainly. But it was more a lust for conquest, for power and control. The boy meant nothing to him. He wasn't attracted to him. No. He was attracted to the thought of dominating him. Showing him that he was his inferior, and no amount of struggling and fighting would change that. Scroop's species weren't warm blooded, not like these mammalian races. Had it not been for the fact that he was in heat, he wouldn't have given the boy a second glance. As it was, the boy presented the perfect option. Small, weak, unlikely to rip his throat out for even thinking about trying anything, and so deliciously unwilling to submit. Perfect. He grinned to himself as his imagination took his mind. How glorious it would be when he finally had the boy, pinning him down so there was no chance of escape, listening to his cries for help, knowing that none would find him in time, and then finally releasing him, broken, his own heat dissipating. Glorious indeed. He hissed to himself in satisfaction of his own thoughts. If he could only get him away from that damned cyborg! He may be the leader of their band, but Scroop had a feeling that Silver was becoming attached to the boy...and vice versa. Of he would deny it vehemently. Of course he would. And it was a softness that he was willing to make use of at a later date. Right now, he was concentrating solely on his own needs.

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Scroop wasn't quite sure how long he had been in the hold, lost to his own thoughts. In fact, he wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings anymore, enjoying himself and his imagination far too much. As such, he wasn't aware that he was no longer alone in his shadowy domain. Nor was he aware that his privacy was invaded. That is, until a particularly large, metal hand grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him out of his hidey-hole, ramming him into the wall. The shock brought him back to his senses, and he found himself looking into the now orange eye of John Silver. He clasped his claws around the unyielding metal of the cyborg's arm, trying to pry him off, all the while glaring at the older man. It didn't actually surprise the arachnoid that he had found him so easily. After all, the cyborg had heat sensors in his eye, and while Scroop wasn't warm blooded, he wasn't exactly completely cold either.

"Sssilver. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Sarcasm dripped from his voice, only serving to anger the cyborg further.

"Shut yer yap, ya bug-brained twit. I ain't 'ere ta make small talk." Silver's voice was little above a growl.

"Then why are you here?" Silver pulled him forward, leaving scant few centimetres between them.

"I don' know wha' ye have against the boy, bu' ya back off. Now." Scroop hissed, smirking.

"Oh? Have I touched a sssoft ssspot, Sssilver?" The pressure on his throat increased as Silver's eye burned red.

"I ain't havin' ya jeopardise the mutiny jus' so ya can bully a cabin boy." His voice dropped dangerously. "Mark me, I catch ya near 'im, fer any reason, an' I'll slice ye up as fish bait. Clear?" Scroop's eyes narrowed at the cyborg, disdain glowing in the yellow orbs. Silver growled, his eye burning brighter.

"Are we clear?" Scroop's breath hitched as the mechanical hand squeezed tighter around his thin throat, choking him.

"Transsparently." The arachnoid was suddenly dropped to the ground, wheezing and coughing. He glared up at the cyborg, his own eyes burning with hatred. Silver was unfazed, folding his arms.

"Good. I expect ta see ya back on top deck." His only answer was a hiss from the arachnoid. Nodding, the cyborg turned and walked away. Scroop glowered after him. Damn the cyborg. Well, of course he would heed his warning; it just meant he would have to wait for the perfect opportunity to strike at the cabin boy, when Silver wasn't around. After all, he couldn't be near the boy all the time. There would be a time when the teenager was alone. He smirked as he pushed himself up and made his way above deck. He would bide his time for the moment. And then, when the perfect opportunity presented itself, he would pounce. He chuckled darkly to himself. He would have the boy, he would just have to bide his time...

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><p>And there you have it. Hope you enjoyed it. Constructive Criticism is welcomed whole heartedly.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

So glad so many of you are enjoying this. Really glad. Thanks to all my reviewers for your comments. Means a lot guys.

Ok, so here's chapter 4. Enjoy!

, , , , , , , , , change in time

. . . . . . . . . change in place

_Thoughts_

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><p>The days had passed by relatively trouble free, especially if one compared them to previous happenings. Over the past few days since the last surprise attack, courtesy of a certain arachnoid, Jim had found himself evermore under the watchful eye of John Silver; in fact, the only time he was ever left alone was when the cyborg took care of his own duties in the galley. Such as at the moment. Jim had expected a job from the older man 'to keep him out of trouble' while he wasn't watching him, becoming rather surprised, to say the least, when he was told to get some rest. He hadn't argued the point, of course, accepting the seemingly rare downtime he had been given. It just came as a shock to him. The teenager placed a foot on the deck, gently rocking his hammock, staring at the slip of cloth above him. He was alone in the crew's quarters, the other sailors making merry in the mess hall no doubt. Silver was probably telling one of his stories right now, entertaining the crew with tales of adventure or legend from across the galaxy before he started his shift on watch. Jim smiled to himself a little. Who knew how much the old cyborg had seen in his life. He didn't even know how old the Ursid was. Over the past month, Jim had noticed that he was warming up to the cyborg, and vice versa (thought Silver wouldn't admit it). He'd learned knew skills through the older man, and rekindled some of the older ones. Briefly, thoughts of what it would be like back home after this adventure flashed through his mind. What could he do with the skills he'd picked up? Become a sailor, like his father? No. No, he promised himself that he wouldn't follow in that man's footsteps. He couldn't leave his mother the way his father had left them. Sighing, the teenager closed his eyes, batting away the thoughts and allowing himself to relax into the thin, strong cloth holding him off the deck, allowing himself to drift into sleep.<p>

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No more than half an hour had passed by before the teen was woken by something. Eyes cracking open, he stared at the far wall, vaguely aware of the barrels and crates that lined it. Dim starlight shone through the hatchway, illuminating the area and drawing out the shadows. Sighing, he turned onto his back, wiping a hand down his face. Why had he woken up in the first place? His eyes snapped open when he received his answer in the form of a very recognisable hiss. No, not him. Anyone but him. He would even prefer fighting that four armed behemoth who had shoved him out of the way on his first day than **him**. _Just lay still, Jim. Maybe he hasn't even seen you. Maybe he wants nothing more than sleep. Maybe..._ All train of thought left him as the familiar skittering sound of the arachnoid's legs seemed to slow, and get closer. Jim gulped, willing himself to sink into the fabric of the hammock. _Pass by, please pass by..._ Luck seemed to have left him alone at that moment in time, as he found himself staring up into glowing yellow eyes. _Oh no..._

"Cabin boy." That was all the warning he was going to receive as the arachnoid suddenly pounced, wrapping a claw around the teenager's throat and hoisting him out of the hammock faster than the boy could blink. Before Jim knew what was happening, he found himself pinned against the wall, struggling against the vicelike grip of Scroop's crab like claw. He tried shouting for help, only for the arachnoid to clamp his other claw over his mouth, stifling the sound before it could be heard. Jim kicked out at him, trying to pry the claws away with his bare hands, much to Scroop's amusement.

"Keep ssstrugglin', boy. It'll only make it more fun for me..." The leer on his mandibles had returned with a vengeance, the yellow orbs that were his eyes seeming to grow darker. He pressed in against the struggling form of the teenager, ignoring the kicks to his abdomen and the muffled yells. Very soon, he had Jim's legs pinned against the wall, with only his arms free. He chuckled darkly, loving the fear that filled the boy's eyes as his struggles became more desperate. Leaving go of the boy's throat, he dragged his claw down his chest suggestively, shushing him in mock comfort as he pulled his shirt up. Jim felt tears of fear prick his eyes as he struggled against the monster. There was no doubt in his mind what the arachnoid wanted now, and there was no one around to help him. He found his mind calling for Silver, pleading with some deity that the cyborg would appear and rescue him. He felt a tear roll down his cheek as the arachnoid continued to toy with him, that smirk plastered on his face the whole time. Fear was replaced by desperation as the claw slipped lower towards his belt. No! He wouldn't win! He dropped one hand from its place on the red arm that gagged him at the moment, curling it into a fist. He could feel Scroop pressing himself into him. Desperation and fear gave him a renewed strength and vigour, slamming his fist into Scroop's face with as much force as he could muster in the close proximity. The arachnoid cried out in shock, loosening his grip in his surprise. Jim took his chance, twisting his head to release his mouth, biting down on the claw... hard. Scroop yelled in pain, throwing the teenager to the deck and nursing his injured extremity. He glared at the teenager, a growled hiss escaping his mouth.

"Why you little...You'll pay for that!" Jim didn't waste any time, scrambling to his feet before the arachnoid could pin him again, grabbing the first thing he could, in this case a lantern, bringing it down on the spider as he pounced once more. The lantern smashed against his shoulder, the glass biting into the hard exoskeleton ever so slightly, the impact catching the spider off guard. He crumpled to the floor, claw grasping the injured shoulder as he glared at the already retreating teen. Now, this meant war.

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Jim ran for all he was worth across the top deck, wiping angrily at tears that dared to stray from his eyes. He couldn't believe it! That creep! He had tried to...it didn't bear thinking about. He all but leapt down the hatchway and into the safety of the galley, glad to find it was empty. He couldn't bear seeing anyone at the moment. He was so ashamed of himself, for reasons unknown. It wasn't his fault that spider psycho was more whacked out than he first thought. He ducked down between barrels of purps, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to fathom what had just happened. He felt the tears slip unabashed down his cheeks. Why him? Why had that psycho chosen him? For the first time since his father left, he felt helpless and lost. What was he going to do? They still had...heaven knows how long until they reached their destination. Was this what it was going to be like for the remainder of the journey? Jim found himself trembling, burying his face into his knees and allowing the tears to flow. He should tell someone about this. But how? And who? What would they think of him? What would Silver think of him? He sobbed into his knees at that thought, all pride seeming to shrivel away to the smallest speck. It had been his pride that had stopped him from telling anyone about Scroop before this, stupidly thinking he could handle it himself. But tonight? That had been far too much for the teenager to take. What would Silver think of him if he saw him like this? He had come to see the cyborg as the father-figure his life presently lacked. Would he turn him away? He stared out through the latticed window at the star speckled Etherium, losing himself to his thoughts, the tears still falling from his eyes. Very soon, however, exhaustion caught up with the teenager, pushing aside the sudden fears and pulling at his mind. He found he was simply too tired to move from this new hiding spot, deciding instead to curl up in what little space he had allowed himself, drifting into a none too peaceful slumber.

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><p>(Cue dramatic music)<p>

Hope you all enjoyed that! Constructive criticism is always welcome.


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